Cake Crumbs
by myboygeorge
Summary: Who would anticipate that Ryan's big news would be the catalyst for a long anticipated kiss? 1st Castle fic, now re-rated to M for chapter 16: Seduction and chapter 17: surrender. R&R&Enjoy!
1. Big News

He didn't know when it happened, but somehow it had happened: Castle had grown accustomed to the hive of activity that was the 64th precinct homicide bullpen. Lost in thought as he stared Beckett staring at a murder board – Miriam Borden had been found dead in an apartment that wasn't the one she shared with her husband – he plotted exposition in the back of his brain as other officers brought in next-of-kin, witness, even cuffed suspects who bellowed obscenities between the words 'innocent' 'wrong guy' and 'lawyer.'

Then again, Castle was fairly certain he could block out nuclear war when he watched his favourite brunette work her investigative magic. Her hair was slightly dishevelled from pulling her fingers through, as though follicle tension would help her concentrate, and her face was showing signs of strain and fatigue. He watched that full mouth set in a line; on any other woman it would be a sexy little pout. On Beckett it was determination, and it made Castle want to bite that full lower lip. The jolt of that realization some months before, especially after spending the summer apart from her, had left him always a little stirred up when he watched her work.

'What do you think?'

Castle blinked slowly as she turned those tired green eyes on him. 'I think it's time for a break, tear your eyes away from the world's easiest murder to solve. We're obviously looking for Shea Borden, his prints are all over that room and he's known for colouring outside the lines on his marriage certificate. Sit down and drink you latte.'

'You're right.' And Beckett rarely hated to admit that these days, but it made her feel a little uneasy that she had someone so interested in her personal well-being that wasn't Lanie or her father. Sighing, she turned away, sat at her desk and reached for the now-cold latte she hadn't even asked Castle to bring her. A little smile crept over her face as she sipped; though the coffee was glacial it was sweetened with the vanilla syrup Castle kept hidden in the break-room for her.

She looked up, saw a befuddled-looking Esposito staring at his phone. 'What's the deal?'

'That was Ryan. He's on his way in, he's got big news, apparently.'

Castle joined in Esposito's confusion. 'I thought he was taking some time off to spend with Honey-Milk, looking after her mother.'

'Well, whatever it is, he sounds like the little kid who found the secret decoder ring in the Cracker-Jack box.'

'Isn't that Ryan all the time?' Beckett asked blandly, skimming over the ME's reporter.

Castle saw what she was doing, and nipped the file from her fingers. 'No. Coffee time multitasking means letting your senses be aroused by the aromatic brew. Or because you let it go cold again, it would be closer to an assault.'

'Some people like their coffee cold.'

'You don't.'

'You know, Castle, you're not-'

'I never said a-'

'Guys!' Esposito cut the bickering off as a stupendously giddy Ryan practically floated into the room and over to the trio at Beckett's desk. He turned to face his partner, whose youthful Irish face was glowing with excitement. 'What's going on bro?'

Ryan's face split into a wide grin. 'Jenny and I got married last night!'


	2. Aftermath

_Hello everyone! Glad to see such a great response so quickly! I do have one request: If you are going to story alert, please also review, because the feedback really does help with the rapidity of updates. Okay, here's chapters 2_

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For sixteen humming seconds, the trio could only stare at Ryan. Esposito looked like he'd swallowed a fish as he stared at his partner in stunned silence. Hoping he could rely on his superior or his buddy the writer, he glanced at them and got a second surprise - Castle staring slack-jawed at the Irish cop. Not much could stun Rick Castle into silence, but this one certainly did it. He turned to Beckett, whose expression mirrored his own shock.

'Conference room,' she whispered, in that dangerous way that made Esposito pity her prey. 'Now.'

They opted for the break-room instead, as all the conference rooms were in use, filing in one at a time. The moment the door was closed, the trio of Beck-Castle-Ito erupted in noise.

'What the hell do you mean, you're married?' Beckett exploded, sounding far more angry than she was; she'd never been able to make 'good-surprise happy-time' yelling and 'I'm-going-to-eat-your-heart-raw' yelling sound any different. 'When did this happen?'

'On Saturday night. Jenny's mother went into the hospital last Monday, and when we thought we were going to lose her after her surgery, we decided to get married at the hospital chapel so she could see her only daughter tie the knot.' Ryan flex his fingers, remembering how they'd shaken when he and Jenny had exchanged their vows. He'd raced home for his best suit, and Jenny had worn her Memorial Day weekend dress again, a simply black cotton sundress with candy-pink flowers on it. They hadn't even had time to get rings since everything had happened so quickly; Ryan played his Castle-connection card in order to put the license paperwork in the fast-lane with the mayor. The only witnesses had been Jenny's mother and Ryan's parents, who had been just as shocked as Ryan's co-workers to hear he was getting married.

Esposito folded his arms on his chest, eyed his partner up. 'And you didn't think to call any of us? We don't mean anything to you and Honey-Milk? I've had your back out there, man, I made her a promise to take care of you-'

'I know, I get that, but her mother was looking very shaky, telling Jenny she wished she'd have seen her get married. What would you have done, Javi?'

The use of his first name had Esposito squirming. Ryan never used his name like that, and combined with the mentioning of the mother - Esposito would have swallowed his police issue bullets one at a time before admitting he emailed the formidable Sanchia Esposito every Sunday to Ryan - shame began to trickle through him. 'I just figured when you and Honey-Milk got married, I'd have gotten to at least plan a bachelor's party.'

'Agreed.' It was the first time Castle had spoken since Ryan's bombshell, but it had given him time to absorb it. He'd known that Ryan was planning to propose but he hadn't expected things to move so quickly. Then again, who was he to talk? He'd married Meredith after less than six months of knowing her; Ryan had been with Honey-Milk for almost eighteen, lived with her for four of them. 'I could have made a couple of calls.'

'Are you having a reception at least?' Beckett asked, sitting in a chair.

'Well, that's part of the reason I came in, to invite you guys. We're doing a small party at our place, nothing big and fancy, so-'

'Big? Fancy? You really think your Honey-Milk is okay with that?' Ryan's innocence made Castle laugh. 'Oh, Ryan, you're in for a long ride if you think your girl doesn't want that. You haven't paid for anything yet, have you?'

'No, but-'

'Good, because since you so cruelly deprived us-' Castle clapped one hand on Esposito's shoulder, slapped the other one good-naturedly on his chest '-the very least you can do is let me throw you and Honey-Milk a soiree at Chez Castle. And I won't take no for an answer.'

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_R&R&Enjoy_.


	3. Favours

'Shut up!'

'Alexis, I haven't-'

'Seriously? Ryan and Jenny got married? Shut up!'

'Okay, Lex, angel-cake, that's kind of a pointless order when I have my mouth full of chicken and can't say anything, anyways.'

It was dinner time chez Castle, and having broken the news to his two favourite women, Castle had purposely picked something hearty - chicken cacciatore with roasted potatoes - so he could have something in his mouth other than his foot. Across the table, Lexis held her knife and fork like medieval weapons, her crystal blue eyes shining with excitement at playing hostess for her father's new co-workers. Being seventeen, she'd managed to somehow eat and have time for girl flip-out.

'So it's going to be like all polished and fancy here? Flowers and cake and little mints in bags?'

'No but it's why I called a family meeting.' Castle was glad his cacciatore made good leftovers, as he wouldn't be able to touch it with Alexis burrowing holes in his head with those laser-eyes. 'Since Ryan is still taking time off to be with his girl-, er, missus, Beckett's down a man so I want to be there as much as I can to help her workload. Which is where you two come in.'

'So you figured you'd make a grand gesture, then just leave the grunt work to the females? Typical.' Martha shook her head, drank her cabernet. 'I thought I taught my son better than that.'

Castle wiped his mouth with his napkin, took a large swig of his dinner-time beer, and reached into his pocket to take out his platinum AmEx card from his wallet. He threw it down the table towards Martha and Alexis like a poker player with his trump ace. 'Mom, your signature is authorized on this account. Keep all the receipts so when I get my bill I don't have an aneurysm. Ryan and Honey-Milk are both Irish so think lots of green and white and gold. I will take care of food, liquor and guest list, you two are in charge of the decorations, music and looking fabulous.'

Alexis' eyes glowed at the Holy Grail of shopping tools on the table in front of her. Though her father was a multi-millionaire, he raised her with an allowance like any other kid; those who assumed she had her own credit card were, she knew, the haters or the fair-weathers who disappeared when they found out she shopped sales like everyone else. Now, she could live out every girl's fantasy of going from shop to shop, buying whatever struck her fancy and charging it like Carrie Bradshaw or Pretty Woman Vivienne. 'I love you Daddy,' she breathed in total awe, making Martha laugh and Castle shake his head.

'Stop drooling, Lex, and finish your dinner.'

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The next morning, Castle had barely made it out of the shower when he heard the distinct ring-tone he'd assigned to Ryan - Kiss My Irish Ass by the Flogging Mollys - blasting from his bedside table. Towel wrapped around his waist, he sat on the edge of his unmade bed and prepared the first of many, many teasings of the the good Irish policeman. 'Good morning, Mr. Honey-Milk.'

'You're never going to let him live that one down, are you?'

'Jenny.' Castle was a little surprised to hear the lovely blonde's voice on the other end of the phone, but pleasantly so. 'How's married life so far?'

'Stressful. I was actually calling to ask a favour of you, if it's not too much trouble.'

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_R&R&Enjoy_.


	4. Morgue Talk

Beckett bounced her cellphone against her palm as she waited in the office space of the morgue. She'd gotten Lanie's cryptic text and had made it over to see her friend when time permitted.

_Girl summit. Now._

What could Lanie possibly want to talk about when she was trying to close this case that was clearly a 'Jack-shot-Jill-over-Bill' as Esposito put it, yet insisted on being delayed by other interruptions? She knew that Ryan had told the lovely ME - he'd all but danced out of the breakroom to do so - but surely the good doctor wouldn't have 911-ed her over something so trivial at work. Dragging an impatient hand over her face, Beckett looked around for a pen to write a note when Lanie appeared, hair damp and the smell of lemons coating her like a fine mist.

'Body dump?'

'And then some. Victim was stuffed in a garbage bag, in pieces, then inside a suit-case which was put in the back of an SUV that sat parked in direct sunlight for twelve hours a day. I went through a three-pound bag of lemons in twenty six minute shower.' Lanie shook her head, tied a bright blue bandana over her hair to keep it off her face while it dried. 'I take it you got my text.'

'Yeah, can we make it quick? I've got the Borden case to close, not to mention about six other-'

'What are you wearing to the reception Castle's having for Ryan?'

Beckett's forehead crinkled in irritated confusion. 'That's it? That's the big emergency? What I'm wearing to a party in a week?'

'Damn right it's a big deal, especially the way you laced into Ryan this morning when he told you and your boys.' Lanie clucked her tongue, unscrewed a bottle of warming cream soda. 'Did you really ask him if he'd lost his mind?'

'No, I...alright, I suppose I was a little harsher then I intended to be, but it just took me by surprise that he'd do something so-'

'Spontaneously romantic?'

'Rash. I just wouldn't figure steady Ryan for the grand gesture kind of guy.'

'Well, at least he's done something about it,' Lanie murmured, please when Beckett's eyes fired with indignation. _That got your attention, didn't it?_

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Katie, he dated Honey-Milk for a year and a half. He moved in with her four months ago. You've been into Castle for almost the same amount of time and what do you have to show for it?'

Before Beckett could open her mouth to indignantly reply she was no such thing, Castle popped his head in the door way. 'Beckett, I need you.'

'What? Now?'

'Yeah, it's kind of important. Unless you're otherwise involved.'

'Oh she's available.' Lanie took another swig of her cream soda, to hide her grin as Beckett sent her a look of daggers. 'She's all yours, big guy.' With that, Lanie and her cream soda left the office, knowing Beckett was ready to strangle her and Castle would make her laugh it off.

'Please tell me whatever you have to say is related to a murder.' Beckett swallowed deeply, unable now to resist noticing how Castle's freshly cut hair revealed that bizarrely-sexy scar above his left eye and placed the blame squarely on Lanie's head. 'Otherwise I might have to kill you just so I'd have a scene to work.'

Castle chuckled, pulled up a chair beside her so their knees bumped. The sudden contact made a little shiver ripple over his neck. 'Honey-Milk called me this morning. She would like you to help her pick out a dress to wear to the reception.'

Beckett stared at him. 'I'm an NYPD homicide detective, a _decorated_ officer of the law, and you're asking me to play wedding planner for one of my subordinates' new bride?'

'Yes?'

'Why can't she get a girlfriend to do it? Or better yet, you?'

Castle put a hand to his heart. 'Oh, snap. I asked her that and her response was, and I quote, because none of my female friends believed I would ever get married so they're not invited and if they try to show up now the deed is done, I'll cover them in KFC grease and stake them out on the nearest ant hill. She also said that she trusts your judgment, since most people didn't think Ryan had the wherewithal to make it as a cop and you treat him like an indispensable part of your team.

'Well, geez, if you're gonna make me feel guilty about it...' Beckett looked at her watch, calculated the time crunch. 'Give her my number, I'll figure something out.'

'Good, because there's one other thing, too.'

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_R&R&Enjoy_.


	5. Party Planners

Beckett had endured many strange things since Castle began shadowing her - the Mistress Venom case and diamond-smuggling snakes sprang to mind - but none were so mind-bending as what awaited her the next morning when she reached the bullpen. Castle was there, freshly shaved and staring at the white-board used for investigations. Only, all her notes from her still-open case were gone; photos, time-lines, everything. In their place was a list of about twenty names, various food options, and what appeared to be a crude schematic of Castle's apartment with furniture outlines in dotted lines.

'What have you done to my murder-board?'

'I told you yesterday I needed another favour. I had to visualize my plans and your Post-It notes were too small. Are there any vegetarians on that guest list?'

Beckett turned to him, jaw dropped. 'Where is my work on the Borden case?'

'Bertrand brought in Shea Jordan while you were at the morgue, on fencing stolen goods charges. He tried to cell the wife's lover's watch to a cop, so they're wrapping him up on that. How do you feel about small round crackers for canapes, or is that too grocery store?'

Beckett snatched the coffee mug out of his hands, sipped once to try and get a hold of her temper. The coffee was Castle's taste no question: too much sugar, not enough cream, but she drank it anyways out of stubborn pride. Clearly, until this bout of temporary insanity had washed away from her shadow, the only way to deal was to play along. 'The last wedding I was at served barbecued wings, so I'm not the right person to ask. And I have no idea who on this list doesn't eat meat.'

'You work with half of them.'

'Yes, _work_ Castle, not share meals with.'

'You're better off going with toasted baguette rounds instead of crackers because they're less messy. And the only vegetarian on there is Ryan's father.'

Castle and Beckett turned simultaneously to see Esposito studying the board intently as he would run surveillance on a suspect. He had his hands in his pockets, rocked back and forth on his heels before grabbing a marker. 'And you definitely want to have a soup instead of salad for the appetizer, so the guests will have a light first course without feeling weighed down. Your best bet for classy elegance on a budget is Fazoulli Fresh.'

He turned back to see the shocked expression on Beckett's face, and the barely-contained laughter on Castle's. 'What? My sister got married last April, and I helped her plan since her fiancee was in Iraq.'

Castle only shook his head, glad to see rough-and-tumble Esposito in touch with his inner metrosexual. 'Perhaps you missed your calling, Javi. Why don't you give my daughter a shout, she's in charge of flowers.'

'Bite it, Castle. I know good food, and Fazoulli is good. They'll do pretty much any menu you ask them for, within reason. My sister's husband wanted turkey-bacon wrapped scallops and they came through.'

'Sounds delish. I'm assigning you to deal with caterers, then, while my mother and my child prepare to purchase every orchid and rose in Manhattan.'

Beckett wanted to scream. The 12 precinct had somehow become a bridal boutique; she had one member of her team on a quasi-honeymoon, the other offering tips on caterers, and her shadow discussing flowers. Did any of them realize that the only person interested in solving murders and doing police work was the woman in the room? She went to sit at her desk, but when she pulled out her chair, she heard a bright voice calling her name.

'Katie! Just the girl I'm looking for!'

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_R&R&Enjoy_.


	6. Hidden Agenda

_Hey everyone, thanks for the great responses so far! This chapter is a little longer but I sincerely feel that there was no way to edit it without doing disservice to the storyline.

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_'Martha!'

Beckett's eyes went round as saucers when she saw Castle's formidable mama stroll into the squad room in a cloud of Dior perfume on three inch lady-heels. She felt every ounce of colour drain from her face as she watched the actress bus her son's cheeks, give Esposito a warm hug. Out of the corner of her eye, Beckett watched as Montgomery came to the door of his office, apparently amused by the proceedings.

Before she could put two thoughts together, Martha had enveloped her in a rib-crushing hug. 'I know you're busy but I am in desperate need of a second woman's opinion on some details for the party.'

'Oh, listen, Martha, I'm still on the roll here, I've got a ton of work to do, so maybe-'

'It's nothing that can't wait, Detective.' Knowing his officer would work around the clock if she could, Montgomery stepped towards the group and shook Martha's hand. 'Always nice to see you, Ms. Rodgers. My wife and I caught your summer performance of _Little House_. Very impressive.'

'Aren't you sweet? So, get your coat and we'll get cracking.' Martha turned back to Beckett, humour dancing in her eyes as she saw Beckett all but choke down her pride. She was a perfect match for her boy, no question, as both could be stubborn as mules when they chose. 'Chop, chop, girl, we're planning a hell of a party and time is of the essence.'

'You're better off just going along with it,' Castle chipped in. 'I learned long ago once she gets on a roll, nothing can stop her.'

Beckett tossed a glance over her shoulder at him that clearly read _I'll get your for this later_ as Martha looped her arm through Beckett's and guided her out of the station.

Castle watched them go, smiling a little as he heard Beckett mutter about crime not stopping just because her co-worker got married. It amused him to no end that when presented with stereotypically female rituals she balked like a rodeo bronco in the chute. He wondered if she knew that her lack of interest in most things girly was one of the things he found most appealing about her. It added that extra punch to the stomach when she did put on a dress and the war-paint so many other women in his acquaintance considered essential for getting the morning paper. For his money, though, she was loveliest when she was off-shift, still in her work clothes, the cop tucked away for a moment and the sweet daddy's girl with a love of mystery novels and cheap cheeseburgers shined through.

Turning back to his party-board, Castle wrote a notation by the 'Music' heading. He now had a second mission with the mission of this party.

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'I don't understand why Jenny isn't here helping you and Alexis.'

'Because Alexis is in class all day, and Honey-Milk is at the hospital with her mother, making sure things go smoothly. Why do you all call her that, anyways?'

Beckett trailed a fingertip over the petals of an arrangement of daffodils and tiger lilies. She loathed the cluttered hothouse smell of florist shops; it reminded her too often of planning her mother's services with her father. But since they were picking out wedding reception arrangements and there wasn't a red rose in sight, she figured she'd be okay with it. 'Ryan let it slip one time that she makes him warm milk sweetened with honey every night before bed so he can sleep. Esposito hasn't exactly let him live it down.'

'You tease that boy something horribly.'

'No, not him, just that it's his girlfriend, or wife now I guess, who does it for him. Ryan's an insomniac.'

'Oh?'

'He was assigned to Violent Crimes when he was in uniform, and went through every possible sleep-aid possible until he went homeopathic.'

'I always preferred a cold chardonnay or a hot-blooded man, personally, but everyone has their tricks.' Martha smiled, wondering if the girl knew she was lingering on Castle's favourite flowers - candy pink and snow-white tulips. They were the one thing he'd had a say in when marrying Meredith, who'd planned the details of the wedding down to how many mints in the bags. Martha had asked him about why they were so important to him; his response had been tulips were hearty, steady flowers and even through the ups and downs of seasons, they were always there, just being themselves. It was in that moment that Martha knew the relationship was doomed to failure.

Thankfully, before Martha could start making other plans, the florist came back from the cold-storage space with the arrangement she'd picked out the day before: white roses with pink and green Fuji-mums for Ryan and Jenny's head table. 'Oh, Maureen, this looks stunning. Don't you think dear?'

'Very pretty. I'm sure Ryan will love it.'

Maureen smiled at Beckett. 'I bet you made a beautiful bride.'

'Oh, no, dear that's not the bride.' Martha chuckled at the stricken look on Beckett's face. 'She's co-hosting the reception with my son.'

Thankfully, Beckett's cellphone rang - a call from her captain after a quick look at the caller ID - leaving Martha to watch her with careful eyes. She knew exactly what image had passed through the detective's mind when she was called 'the bride', and it wasn't a _Kill Bill_ reference either. Turning back to Maureen, she winked furtively. 'That other arrangement we discussed, is it good to go?'

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_R&R&Enjoy_.


	7. Not So Hidden Agenda

'Alexis Martina Castle!'

Castle stood in the doorway of his apartment, eyes wheeling in desperation at the sight that met him upon arriving home. Furniture had been shoved willy-nilly; in place of his leather living room suite were five round tables, each one layered with a different combination of green and white linens. Jammed underneath the staircase was another four rectangular tables covered in plain white linens. Scattered in between were boxes of more linens - were they multiplying like rabbits now? - and what appeared to be green coffee mugs.

'Alexis Mar-'

'In the kitchen, Dad, no need to middle name me!'

Picking his way through the mishigas, he found his beloved daughter in jeans and an oversized Mets jersey, red hair tied up in a messy bun, through which was jammed two pencils and a marker. On the island counter-top was what appeared to be a mutant version of _Clue_, with little colour-coded flags in various positions.

'How was your day?'

'Busy' Alexis gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek before turning back to her board. 'I spent all of lunch and study hall on the phone with the party supply companies. It's amazing how dropping your name gets things done so quickly. All this was here by the time I got home.'

'You didn't think you should spend study hall, oh, I don't know, studying?'

'Dad, please.' Alexis gave her father a bland look, reached into a bowl for some almonds and crunched loudly. 'First week study hall is basically like private-school happy hour. Everyone wants to know all the embarrassing summer vacations details they didn't post on Facebook or tweet about. Since the majority of my friends are now in university, I had plenty of time to get work done for the reception Saturday.'

'Are those push-pin flags stuck in mini-marshmallows?'

'Easy to move around the seating chart that way. I need a finalized guest list. Drink?'

Castle sat down wearily; he'd created a monster. 'A fifth of scotch would be nice.'

'We have milk, apple juice, something called Wassup-Wasabi Tomato Cocktail and water.'

'Apple, then.' Castle watched as Alexis zipped through the kitchen like a bee on speed, finding glasses, pouring one for each of them. 'If I didn't know better, I swear it was you planning your own wedding.'

'I like Ryan, I like Honey-Milk and they deserve to have a better party for their wedding than a hospital cafeteria soup-and-sandwich combo.'

Since she was one-hundred-percent right, Castle had a tough time arguing with her. It was one of her more annoying features she'd picked up from her grandmother. 'I'll have a guest list by tomorrow, since Esposito isn't sure if he'll bring a date.'

'Speaking of which, do you mind if Patrick comes? I kind of already invited him.'

Castle spluttered in his juice; he'd forgotten about Patrick, the 'nice boy' Alexis had begun to - God help him - _date_ over the summer when they'd met at her Princeton mini-course. He'd wanted to run a full background check on the guy, but Beckett had put her foot down, reminding him the last time Alexis had kept a secret from him, she'd eventually told him in her own way anyways. 'Sure, I suppose. He knows the room will be filled with cops, right?'

'Dad!'

'I'm just saying...' He trailed off when he saw that Alexis had added his name to the table with Beckett and they had little matching-coloured flags. 'Lex, sweetcheeks, why do you have me paired up on your board with Beckett the same way you have the captain and his wife colour-coded?'

Alexis hid her grin by drinking her juice. 'Call it a hunch. I figured the way you ditched Gina at the Hamptons to come back and work weekends with Beckett, there was something going on you were choosing to keep private.'

Castle gritted his teeth, remembering the disbelieving nods and winks from Ry-Sposito (his favourite two-headed monster) during the Nikki Heat-inspired murder cases when they'd learned he'd stayed the night at Beckett's apartment. He didn't think that Alexis would be taking a page from their book, too. 'You are my child, so I know you are very nosy like me too, but I am asking you to please let it go. Beckett isn't going to be your new mommy any time soon, Lex.'

'Really? Then how come I see little hearts in her eyes when she looks at you?'

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_R&R&Enjoy_.


	8. Confession

'I think this is the one!'

'Good, because my ass is going numb out here!'

Beckett chuckled at Lanie's terse comment, flipped through her closing notes on the Borden case - turned out it was Shea Jordan after all, who iced Mrs. Borden when he found out she was two-timing her husband and tried to frame him, so things did wrap up nice and easy, just like Castle had said. She squirmed a little on the bench of the boutique's changing area at the thought of going to a party at Castle's house; they'd been to an event or two before together, but that had been strictly business. She'd considered it akin to Hallowe'en, putting on a costume and playing dress-up for a night. This was different, this was off-the-clock party-time Beckett he would see. And why would that be so criminal? He'd seen her in a dress, hell he'd seen her naked after a criminal blew up her apartment - and she still didn't believe him that he hadn't sneaked a peek when he'd handed her his overcoat. His warm, cozy overcoat that showed just how big through the shoulders and body he really was, and smelled like him. That honey-and-eucalyptus smell she could recognize as his at a thousands paces, blindfolded.

And why was she thinking about how good Castle smelled? They were just co-workers; that much had been made very obvious to her when she'd been about to stupidly spill her guts three months before.

'If you could stop thinking so loudly, I'd really appreciate it. Loud noises really bother my ears.'

Beckett scowled at Lanie, who was calmly flipping through one of the store's complimentary catalogues. 'I still don't understand why I'm here helping Ryan's wife pick out a dress.'

'I know why,' Lanie muttered, saved from Beckett's questioning when Honey-Milk stepped out of the booth in a truly hideous dress. It was a garish cerulean that was somehow a cross between a 1950s house-dress and Lady Gaga's lingerie. 'Oh, no, Honey-Milk, you may have married the man but that dress has 'not with a thousand condoms' all over it. Keep going baby girl.'

'Kate?'

Beckett looked up, sucked in a breath and shook her head. 'No.'

'I'm going to get you one of those other ones in the window. I think they'd be a much better fit.'

With Lanie gone, Honey-Milk saw Beckett was prepared to return to her notes, figured it was as good an opportunity to really talk to her. Still examining the lines of the dress in the mirror, she hoped she sounded casual when she asked, 'So you have a dress all picked out to make Castle have a heart-attack?'

'Excuse me?'

'Ryan told me all about how he made you pancakes,' Jenny explained sheepishly, turning back to the mirror, 'amongst other things.'

'Ryan has a very large mouth that isn't filtered properly. Castle came over with a bottle of wine the night before, when he wanted to make sure I was doing okay after a hard day. He stayed on my couch after I told him I sleep with a .38 police special.'

'Protest all you like, but guys don't do that for just any woman. And pancakes? I'm sorry but I agree with my hubby.' Jenny giggled a little as she said the words; they were still so new to her. 'Pancakes are an edible thank-you for a night of passion.'

'I'm serious, Jenny. Nothing is going on.'

Honey-Milk turned around, a serious look on her face and sat down beside Beckett. She ignored the detective's squawk of protest when she neatly nipped her file out of her hands and took her chin in her hand. 'Can you look me dead in the eye, and tell me you've never thought about it? What it'd be like to loosen that top button on his shirt collar when he's wearing a suit? That you haven't had a triple-x dream about him, only to wake up and be severely disappointed you were only dreaming? That you haven't ever had a two-second snoop at his ass when you thought no one was looking?'

Beckett swallowed deeply, shocked to see how deeply Honey-Milk got inside her head. Or had Ryan somehow gotten wind of the pulling-pigtails conversation she'd had with Castle? Or was it simply that obvious to everyone but herself that what she thought was her little secret was, in fact, no secret at all? She did her best to brush it off, but those big blue Honey-Milk eyes had such a lovey-dovey newlywed glow in them Beckett found the lie dissolving on her tongue 'It was actually closer to three seconds, when he makes me lattes in the break-room at work.'

'Ha, I knew it! So...you've worked with the man almost as long as Ryan and I have been together and you've gotten nowhere?'

'Jenny, you have to understand, it's too late. He spent the summer in the Hamptons with his ex after I turned him down.'

'Because he thought you were still stuck on Demming the Lemming.'

Beckett and Honey-Milk looked over to see Lanie had returned with a crop of new options, some of which appeared to be in Beckett's size as well. 'And didn't he come back to the city almost every weekend to run notes by you for the book?' Lanie added as Honey-Milk disappeared into the changing booth. When Beckett said nothing, Lanie smiled a satisfied little smile. 'Like the girl said, Friday gives you the chance to fix your mistake. So what are you going to do about it?'

* * *

_R&R&Enjoy_.


	9. Chop Talk

_Hello everyone! Thank you very much for the overwhelming response to this story! I've had some people wonder whether this is a set-up just to get things going between Castle & Beckett, and I assure you, it's not! In this branch of the Castle Universe, Ryan really did marry Honey-Milk and it will last. That being said, you will all be squee-ing with delight when we get to the chapter with the long-anticipated kiss!_

* * *

Castle usually reserved Saturdays for sleeping past his alarm, ten o'clock pancakes with his girls and an hour or two of uninterrupted _Halo Wars_ action. But not this Saturday. It was the big day, and there was too much to do. An early-morning escape was not only necessary, it was sanity-defining. He was up and out of the house with a note for Lex-zilla by eight, down to the oh-so-New-York-cliche of the Jewish barbershop for the man-works. He sent the owner's granddaughter a wink and a smile that had her lovely olive complexion going pink.

'Sosanna, lovely as always.'

'Hi Mr. Castle. My granddad's just in the back. I'll get started on your haircut.'

Castle felt Sosanna tilt the chair back, run warm water over his head as he inhaled the deep masculines scents of his favourite traditional barbershop - leather chairs, the heady smell of Gideon's old-world shaving creams, lotions and soaps, and the underlying whiff of the cigars the barber enjoyed at precisely ten and three every day. He picked up a copy of the Saturday paper - Gideon was a faithful New York Ledger reader, forever bitching when they raised the prices yet never canceled his subscription once in the forty-two years he'd run his shop - and immediately went for the _Arts & Literature_ section, scanning to the book-sales. He grinned foolishly when he saw the blurb from Paula bubbling over about the pre-sales for the second Nikki Heat book. Wouldn't Beckett just have six fits over that?

'Alright, you schmuck, get over here and make it quick.'

Castle's grin stayed in place when he heard the unmistakable Lower East Side twang of Gideon Meyers. Despite the fact that Castle was five inches taller, sixty pounds heavier and twenty-five years younger, he always felt like the short, chubby twelve year-old he'd been when he first met Gideon. The man was skinny as one of his combs, his hair a blinding white that stood up from his head in a curly two-inch crown, and always wore tailored slacks and corduroy vest when he worked his trade. Though his demeanour was gruff and impatient, Castle knew he kept a jar of ginger-candies behind the counter for his younger customers, along with a mini-fridge of soft-drinks and a bottle of Sabra liquor for toasting an engagement or baby.

He rose from his chair and embraced Gideon tightly. 'Good to see you again.'

'Big fancy writer-man, you got no time for me anymore? You come in here for a trim and that's it?'

'Actually, I was thinking we could go a little more old school, the Meyers special.'

Gideon's thick white eyebrows nearly lifted off his face. 'Well, now, this is a surprise, Richard. Shosanna, the ginger oil, and that hippie crap you convinced me to buy.' As his girl scuttled to the supply room Gideon turned back to Castle, who'd already made himself at home in the middle chair. 'I must say, this is most definitely a surprise. Are you getting new headshots done?'

Castle sat in the chair, felt instantly more relaxed that he had all week as Gideon draped a hot towel over his face. 'No. I'm hosting a wedding reception at my house for a friend.'

'Oh, one of the policemen you mentioned on the talk show?'

'Yeah, Ryan and his girlfriend tied the knot last Saturday night. Her mother was in the hospital and they thought she wasn't going to last very long so they decided to get married so she could see her only daughter get married.'

Gideon clucked his tongue. 'That's not a reason to get married. You get married because you love each other, because of a lifetime without them is incomprehensible.'

Castle said nothing, thought of why he'd gotten married both times. The first had been his sense of adventure - wildly in lust with Meredith, and that passion had given him the most beautiful baby girl in the universe. The second had been tequila shots after a book launch party in Vegas - it really did prove that nothing good ever happened after 2 A.M. It wasn't that he was afraid of the commitment, he loved the idea of finding someone to spend his life with, he just happened to plant that flag on quicksand twice. More than anything, he wanted the third to be the charm. He knew there was a lot happening in the next years of his daughter's life that he as a man was just not equipped to understand. And lately, every time he thought about that third charm, his thoughts immediately centered on a prickly detective with Bambi eyes and come-hither voice. The one who'd given him reason to take more than one cold shower, or had him waking to a miserable empty bed.

Thankfully he had Sosanna to distract him, but not by much, when he heard her ask, 'Are you taking that pretty detective from _Cosmo_ to this party?'

'She was already coming, I didn't think I needed to ask her again.'

'Oy vey, you are dense, Richard.' Gideon pulled back the hot towel, slapped his client's cheeks smartly. 'What my darling Sosanna means is did you _ask_ her to the party?'

Castle tried to sit up but found Sosanna pinning his shoulders in place. 'I...we don't have that kind of relationship. I've tried a couple of times and it looks like it's not going to happen.'

'Really? Then why are you here getting hot oil, hot towel, the rest of it when you could have gone up town. The last time you were here, as I recall, was when you took her on that undercover assignment to stop the home invasions.'

'No, Zeidy, it was the week before he left to go to the Hamptons. He invited her then too. I'm a woman, Mr. Castle, we have radar about these things,' Sosanna added, off his panicked look that the tabloids had gotten hold of private information.

Castle opened his mouth, closed it as he saw Gideon draw out his stainless steel straight razors. The man could turn into a little Jewish Sweeney Todd if he wanted, so Castle played his cards smartly. 'I didn't ask her because I have a plan, and I hope to God it works.'

'Oh schemes.' Sosanna pumped a thin gold oil that smelled of pinewood into her hands and began to massage Castle's scalp. 'Do tell.'

* * *

_R&R&Enjoy_.


	10. Arrival

'I can't believe we're late!'

'Relax, girl, it's not like we could anticipate that fender-bender tying up traffic for an extra half an hour.'

Kate fussed with her bangs, nervous as a fox in a hen-house. Instead of the pink dress she'd worn the first time she'd wanted to put his blood pressure through the roof, Lanie had all but strong-armed her into buying a floaty coral faux-silk (no way could she afford the real thing) and strappy silver heels. Her jaw dropped clean through the floor when Lanie called the little pink number 'work clothes' - after all hadn't she stated herself she wanted to tease Castle at his job; she'd called the same shenanigans when Beckett wanted to leave her hair straight, too. Tonight, however, before she could so much as open her briefcase, Lanie was on her doorstep with her 'girl tools' as Kate thought of them - hot rollers and a make-up trunk the size of a desk-top computer.

Now in the elevator, Kate fidgeted with her earrings, poked at her cheeks. She was probably the only one who knew since the little pow-wow in the boutique with Honey-Milk and Lanie, Beckett had secretly spent every off the clock night trying on her dress with various combinations of paints and powders, to give her some semblance of fuller cheeks, a soft jawline. After an hour of case revision and note editing, of course - she was still a cop, ans despite the festivities tonight, the real world kept on turning.

Lanie watched her best friend make goldfish-faces in the reflective surface of the elevator wall and snickered. 'I don't think I've ever seen you so twitchy before a date!'

'It's not a date, Lanie. I'm just going to a party for Ryan and Honey-Milk,' Beckett reminded her, a little too hastily before silently adding, _He would have to open that enormous mouth of his and ask first._

'Mm-hmm.' Lanie turned away as the elevator doors opened to Castle's floor so Beckett couldn't see her pursing her lips to hold in the grin. It was about damn time her girl got this outwardly nutty about Castle.

They reached the door, and Beckett had to smile at the little poster sitting on the easel; Congratulations Ryan and Honey-Milk! trumpeted cheerily in silver and green letters on a white background, accompanied with a black and white picture of the policeman and his bride. They knocked on the door, and when it was opened by a man in a uniform, they stepped into another world.

'Oh. Oh wow.'

She'd been to Castle's apartment before, when it was the home he shared with his daughter and occasionally his mother. Now it had been transformed into a little fantasy-land: White twinkly lights were strung everywhere, and the air was sweet with some sort of exotic flowers. The furniture had been rearranged to accommodate small round tables for dinner, upon which glinted crystal, silverware, china. On the head table sat the centerpieces Beckett had seen with Martha, with similar arrangements on the guests' tables. In the alcove under the staircase, a DJ booth had been discreetly set up while a partition had been set up to shield the kitchen from the rest of the banquet. On a table by the door sat another beautiful black and white photo of Ryan and Honey-Milk, along with a leather-bound wish-book, complete with a fountain pen; beside the book were several corsages and boutonnieres. Pink and white tulips, Beckett noticed, just like the ones she'd lingered on in the florist's.

She didn't see Ryan or Honey-Milk, they were going to be arriving a little bit later, but she did see Alexis huddled with two other girls her own age. At the bar, the captain and his wife chatted with a young blonde man she didn't recognize while over by the hors d'oeuvres station, she saw Esposito chatting with a bubbling brunette she doubted could even vote. But no Castle. _Typical_, she thought, _always has to..._

Her thoughts trailed into a fizzing white static as she saw him come bounding down the stairs, looking dashing and debonair, and -dammit, she was only human - very sexy in his well-tailored black suit. He'd gotten a hair-cut recently and his skin looked healthy and soft like he'd spent the previous day at a California spa instead of with her and Esposito over a murder-suicide in an Alphabet City tenement_._ He hadn't bothered with a tie, and the shirt, if one looked close enough, was a light pearly rose. Only he could get away with wearing a pink shirt.

He greeted the captain warmly, shaking his hand, and Beckett laughed when he raised Mrs. Montgomery's knuckles to his lips. He glanced toward her and before she could tear her eyes away, he did a double take. Embarrassed to have been caught staring, Kate dropped her eyes down, then grabbed the pen for the wish book like a drowning man grabbing a safety rope_._ She flipped it open to the blank page and began to scrawl, praying it was legible later.

_For Ryan and Jenny, here's to the first of many incredible nights together._

She'd just finished capping the pen when she felt a tug on her wrist. Bracing, she turned and felt the smile come easily to her lips.

'Hi.'

* * *

_R&R&Enjoy_.


	11. Cocktail Hour

Hello faithful readers! Time for another teasing, tantalizing torturous chapter! A couple of you reviewers have called shenanigans on my short chapters, but i write short chapters in this story for two reasons: 1) keeps interest for the next one high. 2) easier to have a dialogue-heavy chapter when it's shorter. Also, Captain Montgomery's wife and son are getting names her courtesy of me, since they have never been mentioned on the show. And here we go!

* * *

'Hello Detective.'

Castle watched that easy smile on her lips, the quick humour glint in her eye. He hated that he'd taken so long to finish getting ready, but of course, it had to be the day that Paula called him from Los Angeles at pre-dinner cocktail hour on her time. He'd spent nearly an hour trying to get her off the phone, and once he did realized he was only half-dressed and the drift of guests' voices was coming up the stairs. He'd hastily finished buttoning his shirt, decided to skip the tie and hurtled downstairs to see that just about everyone had arrived. It was only in the middle of greeting Montgomery and his wife Elizabeth that he'd noticed the two women just through the door. He recognized Lanie immediately - he was used to seeing her with fancy lady-eyes - but the leggy brunette beside her made him do a double-take. He'd made his polite excuses, noted with a little jolt to his ego she'd blushed a little as she turned to write in the book for Ryan and Honey-Milk. While her attention was distraction, he grabbed her wrist gently and smiled his greeting as well. When she smiled back, so easily and affectionately, he felt his nerves turn to butter.

'Hi. This is some party.'

'And it's just getting started. You clean up nicely, Detective.' The truth was, she looked stunning, even more than she had at the undercover fundraiser. She'd curled her hair, he noted, and made her eyes darker, bigger, somehow. He never pretended to know how women used the tools of their trade to do things like that, but he could appreciate the results. From the table, he picked up one of the corsages. The fact that his mother and Alexis had picked out his favourite flowers for this little detail hadn't escaped him. He wondered if he was that transparent. With hands surprisingly gently, he slid the elastic band over Beckett's wrist. 'For you, my muse.'

'And every other girl at the party.'

'And every man at the party, too. We'll all look good.' Still holding her arm by the wrist, he looped it through his own, lead her to the bar when saw his mother gesturing wildly to him from across the room. 'Order me a scotch neat with a twist.'

Castle ground his teeth at having to leave her side just as she'd arrived for his mother. 'Mother, as always, your timing is impeccable,' he hissed, while Martha calmly sipped her martini.

'I just wanted to say, before the night gets going and I have too many of these, you've done a lovely job for your friends. They will look back on this and feel like they had a proper wedding.' Martha looked past her dazzled son to where Beckett was at the bar, mixing a bright pink drink with a straw while an unmistakable glass of scotch. 'Your sweetheart is waiting for you.'

'She's not-'

'Go, have fun,' Martha insisted, literally giving her only child a shove in the shoulder to send him on his way. She had an inkling of what he hoped to get out of the night, and if her radar was right, he wouldn't wake alone for breakfast the next morning.

Castle mumbled all the way back to the bar, took the scotch and tossed half of it back like water, making Beckett arch an eyebrow.

'Easy Castle, we haven't even had dinner yet. Is this everyone?'

'Pretty much. They asked to keep it small and intimate so I did.'

Beckett sipped her Lady Lemonade - a treat she and Lanie discovered on a drunken girls' night; citrus and raspberry vodkas combined with grenadine and sours - and watched the crowd. She'd never been able to turn off that cop aspect of herself, no matter how far away she was from her job or how much she had to drink. She saw Alexis sitting at a table with the blonde boy she'd seen talking to Montgomery before. That must be the boyfriend, she mused; oh yeah, the way he held her hand nervously, like he was expecting to be shot if he moved any closer. 'I have to say, I am very impressed, Castle. I never thought you'd pull it off inside a week.'

Any other time, he'd have let it go. But tonight was special, in more ways than one and she'd set him up so beautifully. Turning so his body half-blocked hers from the rest of the room, he felt her tense just slightly at the intimacy of the move. He braced a hand on the bar, leaned in and whispered in her ear.

'Oh I think you'll be very surprised what I'll pull off tonight.'

* * *

_R&R&Enjoy_.


	12. Speechifying Dinner

Twenty minutes later, after Beckett had mostly gotten her breath back, Ryan and Honey-Milk had arrived, Ryan looking dapper in a navy-blue suit and shirt the colour of electrified robin's eggs, Honey-Milk in a beautiful blue number that matched Ryan's shirt perfectly. Alexis had presented Honey-Milk with a bouquet of white and pink roses, pinned a white rose to Ryan's lapel and innocently kissed his cheek; the act had her face going as red as her hair. They were not the only late arrivals - Honey-Milk's mother had recovered in the week since her surgery that her doctor permitted her a day-pass to come to the festivities. There hadn't been a dry eye in the house as the lovely Mrs. Delaney was escorted in her wheel chair, her hospital bandages neatly hidden by the loose black dress. Beckett borrowed Lanie's handkerchief, but having drenched it, she would have excused herself to the bathroom had Castle not passed her a napkin off of their table. She took it gratefully, and by the time she'd gotten her happy-tears dried up, the caterers were ready to serve the first course.

Beckett found her seat with Lanie, and fancy that, she'd been placed right between Lanie and Castle. Her nerves smoothed over a little when she smelled the unmistakable smell of cream of mushroom soup approaching the table. The caterer served table side from a tureen big enough to take a bath in. She dug in, remember the Vodu case when she'd inadvertently eaten cow's foot stew with a little smile. She hadn't realized until the first spoonful hit her lips how hungry she was; she hadn't eaten very much all day.

'This is fantastic, Esposito, excellent recommendation.'

Across the table, Esposito raised his beer in salute, twisted to give Sloan, one of Alexis' friends who'd been shamelessly flirting with him all night, a little wink. 'Glad you like it,' he said to Beckett.

Castle caught were his gaze was headed and took the opportunity to throw a butter-ball across the table at him. 'Watch where you're looking, friend.'

At the head table, a rail-thin man with long blond hair tied back in a queue stood up, took the microphone discreetly offered by the DJ. 'Good evening every-one. My name is Aiden Delaney, I am the brother of the bride, Ms Jennifer Agatha Delaney, now known as Mrs. Kevin Ryan, or as I've learned from a few people here tonight, Mrs. Honey-Milk Ryan.'

Laughter rolled through the room as he continued, 'I'd like to raise a glass first of all to Mr. Richard Castle, who has opened his home to us tonight, I thank you very much for this gift.'

Beckett reached for her wine glass, missed, and found herself grabbing Castle's hand and squeezing instead. Her cheeks flamed as she realized her mistake, jerked her hand away like she'd been burned; because her back was turned, she couldn't see Castle tug slightly at his shirt collar.

'Many people were taken by surprise by this wedding, but it came as no surprise to me my sister got married this way. She's always been the adventurous one in the family; I remember one time she said she was heading out with some friends for a weekend, and I got a call the next night from Jenny that she was in Napa Valley for a wine-tasting. She's always faced a challenge, she's the one sitting beside you when you get thrown in jail reminding you how much fun you had getting there, and she's the one who'll be by your side through thick and thin, no matter the personal cost.' Aiden paused to clear his throat, then raised his wine glass. 'Ryan, you've got the best partner in the world in my little sister and I wish you many years of happiness and adventure. Slainte.'

This time, Beckett did manage to get hold of her wine glass, careful to avoid Castle's dancing eyes as the table toasted. Thankfully, the caterers had cleared the soup away and brought the second course - grilled steak with a buttered-beer au-jus, crudites and roasted potatoes. Without any hesitation or sense of guarded female manners, Beckett dug into her steak moaning as the tender beef all but melted in her mouth. 'Oh, God,' she mumbled over a mouthful of meat, 'this is how beef is supposed to taste.'

Esposito watched from across the table, amused at the little exchanges between his boss and his friend. They really had no understanding of how much a pair they already were, he mused, washing down potatoes with beer. Thankfully, before Lanie could call him on staring like he was watching a ping-pong game, he wiped his mouth on his napkin and got up to make his speech for Ryan.

'Hello, everyone, I hope you're all enjoying your meal as much as Detective Beckett over there.' Once again there was laughter, which Beckett joyfully tuned out as she continued to devour her meal. 'I'm Javier Esposito, and I'm Ryan's other partner. I've known him as an officer of the law for nearly nine years now. I remember the first day I met him, I was on patrol in the Violent Crimes unit and this kid's uniform looked more like a Hallowe'en costume. He was keeping the lookie-lous out of the area and said in this calm steady voice, you want pictures. Because that's who he is. He's steady, the rock that'll never roll, but it'll stand there with a wink and a smile. He's a stand-up guy, a hell of a cop, and an excellent friend. And if you ever get tired of his ass, Honey-Milk, you know where to find me.'

Applause rang out, rich as the laughter; Beckett saw Ryan and Honey-Milk wipe away tears as Esposito put down the microphone and hugged his best friend. She went to cut another bite of steak, surprised when her fork hit china. 'Where'd it go?'

'You ate it all. You were like a T-Rex in _Jurassic Park_, only with better skin,' Castle quipped, unable to hide his delight with her bafflement. Instead, he reached over, passed her plate to the waiter. 'Here, better take that before she eats it too.'

Beckett reached for her wine, drank deeply. It felt so...cozy, and yet romantic, to have Castle sitting beside her, attentively seeing to the details like that; it made the steak she'd so gleefully wolfed down churn her stomach. Thankfully before she had time to think about making a break for it, she felt Castle stand-up beside her. 'Where are you going?'

'To add to the surprises of the night.'

* * *

_R&R&Enjoy_.


	13. First Dance

'Do you know what he's up to?'

'Not a sweet clue.'

'Lanie you gonna finish that?'

Lanie absently shoved her post-steak sorbet towards Esposito, owner of a secret sweet-tooth, still fixed on Castle. Though he appeared to be his usual self, she was trained to look for the little signs and she saw plenty of them - the extra adjust of his jacket cuffs, the light drumming of fingers on the microphone. Looked like he wasn't the only one battling some nerves tonight, she mused.

'Good evening, thank you for coming tonight. We are here to celebrate he union of Officer Kevin Ryan and Jenny Honey-Milk Delaney. Many people would ask why am I, the single guy with two failed marriages, up here speaking to Ryan and Honey-Milk. It's for two reasons, one because I never miss an opportunity to tease Ryan about Honey-Milk, but mostly because despite evidence to the contrary, I do believe in true love.'

Castle paused a moment, drank a little of the wine he'd taken up with him. 'I have seen people survive through the absolute depths of hell because they had a loved one to stand beside them without wavering or acting selfish, and those are the relationships that last for thirty, forty, fifty and beyond years. And when I see you two, see the way that Ryan has comforted you and you him, Jenny, I know in my heart of hearts that what seems to be fools rushing in, you will still be together like this, when you're old and gray, reliving your glory days on the front porch with your children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, hopefully one of each generation being named Richard. To Kevin and Jenny.'

He reached in his inside jacket pocket, pulled out a thick white envelope. 'This is my wedding gift to you guys. They all signed the card-' he gestured to the table of Ryan's co-workers '-but this one was my idea. Congrats, you two.'

Ryan and Honey-Milk tore into the envelope like children with a Christmas present. Inside, were two airfare ticket holders for British Royal Airlines, and information on a place called 'The Shamrock Honoria Inn'.

'It's two round-trip tickets to Dublin,' Castle explained to the rest of the guests, as the newlyweds embraced him tightly, 'with two weeks booked at a four-star hotel, car rental, the works.'

'Castle, I don't know what to say man.'

'Oh, and there's a limo ready to take you to the airport whenever you're ready to leave next week.'

Honey-Milk sniffled a little, hugged Castle tightly again. 'Thank you so much, Rick. I didn't think we'd get to go anywhere.'

'It's my pleasure, really. Happy wedding.'

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After the dinner plates had been cleared away, the tables pushed back to create a dance floor; the first dance between husband and wife had once again brought the guests to tears as they circled the dance floor in time to Alice Keys' 'No One' - Honey-Milk's favourite singer and the first song she'd ever danced to with her new husband. When they asked for the wedding party to join them on the floor for a second dance - this time to an accoustic version of Eric Clapton's 'Wonderful Tonight' - Ryan and Honey-Milk not only had Aiden Delaney and his wife join Esposito and the sweet young Sloan but also Castle and Beckett. This time, it was Castle who went slightly red.

'Not nervous, are you, Castle?'

'I'm not exactly a good dancer. I think it's one of the reasons my first wife left me for that director.'

'I'll be gentle.' With more confidence than she thought she had, Beckett took his hand, pulled him onto the dance floor. As they began to move in to the music, Beckett let her cheek rest against his, her insides going a little bit liquid at how smooth his face felt. 'That was a nice speech you gave Ryan and Honey-Milk.'

'Thank you.'

'Did you mean it? That whole bit about true love?'

Castle leaned back slightly to look at his dance partner, and for the first time since he met her, saw that raw questioning look aimed at him. He cleared his throat. 'Yes, I did. I really believe there is someone out there for everyone. The smart ones are like our newlyweds, who find it and don't let it go.'

'Right.' Before she could stop herself, Beckett added on, 'I guess that means you and Gina got a second chance, huh?'

Castle laughed, shook his head in surprise that it had taken his favourite detective so long to ask about his second ex. 'Not exactly. Our trip up to the Hamptons, that really was just business. She spent most of the weekends with her new guy and I came back here to go over notes with you for the novel.'

'Oh.' It was a loaded word, Beckett knew, but as they circled on the dance floor, she couldn't help but smile. There was no Gina-factor. There never had been. It had all been in her head. 'I see.'

Castle held the triumphant yell in, pulled Beckett tighter against him. The game, it seemed, was back on. As the song ended, he left his hand on her waist, freed the other one to run his index finger quickly over her cheek. 'Save me another dance later?'

* * *

_R&R&Enjoy_.


	14. Full Dance Card

By ten, the party was in full swing. The DJ kept the song mix bright and fun, with just the right balance of country, hip-hop, dance, pop and novelty tunes to keep the dance floor crowded and the bartenders' tip jars stuffed to busting. Castle didn't think he'd ever get the imaging of the always-in-command Montgomery shakin' his groove-thing to the bouncy beat of Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie". He'd also turned a blind eye to the way his daughter was intimately pressed up against Patrick, but luckily for him he kept his hands in appropriate places. Across the dance floor, he could see Esposito - who now had his necktie around his head - also pressed up against Sloan and for a moment Castle thought he was going to try and give her mouth-to-mouth while dancing, but thankfully he remembered it was some-what a family event and instead kissed the pretty college freshman on the cheek.

As the song wound to a close, Castle staggered to the nearest chair, slumped dramatically. Across the table, Martha sat four martinis deep beside Aiden Delaney and Lanie, pleased with the state of the world in general.

'Ah, this is what it's all about, my dears,' she warbled, making Aiden cringe from her breath and Lanie giggle like a school-girl. 'The flowers, the music, the wine, it's all trappings but do you know what stays? The love. the love between family and friends and lovers and...everyone!'

'And how much _love_ have you had tonight, Martha?' Lanie asked, all polite smiles.

'Oh, dear, counting is for beginners. I learned long ago on night such as these if you count the drinks you have, you'll wake up the next morning saying why can't I go back and cut that number in half?' She emphasized her point by karate-chopping the edge of the table, sending bottles jumping and the wax in the votive holders wobbling in a dangerous way. 'Richard!'

'Mother!'

'When did you sit down?'

Castle only grinned. 'As much fun as your having, I don't want to look after that in the morning.'

'Oh, don't worry dear, I'm going to be Chet's problem, not yours, the morning after.' Martha gave him a sloppy wink that had Castle swallowing deeper. Martha was in the dangerous Cinqo-de-Mayo zone, the red-alert, Defcon-3 cannot control-her-mouth zone and he couldn't have one slip of her tongue ruining everything for him.

Before he could give her a warning himself, Beckett toddled over on her lady heels, smiling devilishly at Castle as the hot-country tempo picked up.

'I believe you said to save you a dance for later? Well it's later now, and I'm cashing in.'

'Oh I don't do so well with a waltz, I think I'd murder your toes two-stepping.'

Impatient, Beckett rolled her eyes. 'Come on, Ricky, you're not afraid of a little action, are you?'

Castle bared his teeth at her use of "Ricky"; it was dangerously too close to calling him "kitten". But he'd never been one to back down from a challenge. Slapping his palms on his thighs, he grabbed Beckett's wrist, spun her into his arms. 'You just hang on, little lady,' he drawled in his best John Wayne.

'Oh, kinda sir,' Beckett replied, adding a twang to her voice and fluttering her lashes. 'Just you see if you can keep up.'

They spun away on the dance floor, making Lanie want to strangle them both. Were they both that blind, or just plain stubborn? Maybe it was a matter misinformation; after all, Beckett had spent most of a lonely miserable summer under the impression that Castle was still stuck on his ex-wife. She knew it wasn't the case, so maybe she needed to prod a little.

'Lanie Parish, I can see you brain working overtime, and I have just the cure.' Martha shoved a fresh martini at her new drinking buddy, the focused bleary eyes on the shapes she believed her Castle and Beckett. 'You've known that girl a long time, Lanie. Does she always move so slowly?'

'At work? Never. With men? Like you read about. I'm telling you, five bucks says all this atmosphere and wonderment will do nothing to help her, and she'll wake up tomorrow alone in her apartment.'

Martha examined her manicure. She was a gambling woman and bet on almost anything she found interest. Her son's imminent romance with the detective, especially with the festivities, was a sucker's bet, it was only a matter of time. 'Make it a hundred.'

'Fifty?'

'Done.'

* * *

_R&R&Enjoy_.


	15. Cake Crumbs

_Well, here we are. Before we get to the goodness below, this scene was the one I had in my head that made me want to write this fic in the first place; it was the moment I had in my head and I said, 'okay, how do I build this up so the pay-off has people all but jumping up and down?'_

_So__, here it is, the long awaited chapter with The KISS! Go nuts kids.  
_

* * *

By the time quarter to two rolled around, only Esposito, Beckett and Castle were left. Ryan and Honey-Milk had taken her mother back to the hospital, then headed home to do their newlywed thing, Alexis had stayed over at Sloan's house for the night, the others had all scattered to mostly their own beds.

The three of them sat at their table, surveying the mess and drinking warming bottles of Stella Artois. Esposito still wore his tie around his head like a mutant bandana, while Beckett had ditched her shoes almost an hour before. 'I think we can call that one hell of a party.' Esposito tucked the tail of his tie behind his ear like it was a lock of hair, making Castle snort.

'Oh please, you're just saying that because you had Sloan hitting on you all night. Was she even eighteen, Esposito, or would you have had to arrest yourself?'

'She's legal, Castle, and she'll have bragging rights to all her university BFFs on Monday morning, but most importantly, my ego got a nice little boost.' Esposito drank his beer, watched the way Castle kept his arm on the back of his boss' chair, and thought _it's about damn time_.

'I don't think I'll get the image of Ryan and the garter toss out of my mind any time soon.'

'Aw what's the matter, Ricky,' Beckett teased up. 'You more upset you didn't catch it, or that it was your daughter's boyfriend who did?'

'Don't even...'Castle leaned forward, so he was almost nose to nose with Beckett, making her gulp a little. She could still smell that deliciously masculine smell of his and combined with the heightened atmosphere of the night, didn't trust herself to make the right decision. Throwing yourself at your friend after a couple of beverages inside the bubble of a wedding reception had bad idea jeans written all over it. No matter how strong a temptation it was.

Esposito might have looked like a deranged pirate, drinking almost everything he could find, but he was sober enough to know it was time for him to make his exit. 'Well, as much fun as this is, I am on call tomorrow so I am going to see if I can grab a little sleep. Goodnight guys.'

'Night, man,' Castle said over his shoulder, without looking away from Beckett. He heard the door click shut behind Esposito, felt a little of the tension in his chest begin to slide around.

He had Beckett alone in his apartment.

Beckett swallowed deeply as she heard the click of the door behind her co-worker; it echoed like gunshot in her mind. There was no one there but the two of them. She had to wonder, had he planned this? Had he carefully staged all of this extravagance just to be alone with her in a fancy dress? No, of course not. She'd seen the legal documents herself; Ryan and Honey-Milk really were married, and she'd also learned in her time with Castle while he was filthy bloody rich, he was more likely to spend his money on those he cared about before himself. Hadn't he purchased them a twelve-hundred dollar espresso maker for the break-room as a thank-you? And kept their cupboard stocked with three kinds of Starbucks beans?

She realized, with a dull thud, she was there at the end of the night because she wanted to be. She always liked having that quiet one-on-one time with him at the station, so why should tonight have been any different? Because he had that look in his eye, the one she'd seen when she'd told him she loved to get 'wild and kinky' with her handcuffs by arresting criminals, all night, every time he glanced her way.

'Well,' she said, clearing her throat, 'I think I better head home.'

'Oh I think we have time for one more dance.' Castle went over not to the DJ station, but to the home stereo by his fireplace, selected the song he'd made note of days before. It was cheesy, it was corny, and damn if it didn't just suit the moment. He hit play and as the strains of Sixpence None the Richer floated out of the speakers, he walked back to Beckett, one hand in his pocket, the other close to his chest as he crooked his index finger at Beckett. He nearly laughed when she shook her head, leaned in so they were staring each other down.

'I'm not taking no for an answer, and you know how stubborn I can be.'

Without giving her a chance to respond, he pulled her to her feet, swung her into his arms. It didn't alarm her now that she was an even better fit there when she was in her bare-feet. Something about being held close by him had every nerve under her skin both relaxed and electrified all at once; it was impossible for Beckett to wrap her head around it.

With one hand on her waist, the other hold her hand, Castle led her in slow swaying circles in the middle of the empty dance floor. Because she was in her bare feet her chin rested comfortably on his shoulder.

'You smell...blossomy,' he murmured, making her laugh.

'Blossomy? How much have you had to drink tonight?'

'Surprisingly, not that much. I wanted to keep an eye on that Patrick kid.'

'Such a dad.' That never ceased to impress her, Beckett knew. Whatever his shortcomings, Castle was an excellent father to his child. 'And just think, in a few years time, you'll get to help Alexis plan her own wedding.'

Horror leaped across Castle's face, though his voice remained steady. 'If by a few, you mean like thirty, then yeah, I'll be okay with that.'

'Your little girl's growing up, Castle, pretty soon you'll have to take care of yourself. Look at you, even tonight.' Beckett eased her hand out of his, brushed at the cake crumbs on his shirt front. 'You're a mess.'

She let her hand rest a moment on his chest, and was shocked to find the thundering gallop of his heart. You'd never guess it, she thought bewilderingly, beneath his cool and cocky exterior his heart was racing a thousand miles a minute. When she looked up, into his eyes, she felt all the spit in her mouth turn to dust as she'd seen them darken so the friendly blue was black as midnight. She started to let her hand slide away, but his quickly came up to cover it, press it against his chest. Before she could say or do anything, she felt his breath on her skin seconds before she felt his lips press against hers.

* * *

_R&R&Enjoy_.


	16. Seduction

Finally, Beckett thought, finally, finally, finally.

His lips were soft but firm, seeking but gentle, and tasted of the scotch and cake he consumed over the course of the party. She felt her own yield beneath his like molten wax; the sound in her throat as he gently danced his tongue over hers was somewhere between a sigh and a moan. When she kissed him back, more forcefully this time, the hand that covered hers on his chest slid up her arm to her cheek and held there. Though the music still played in the background, they stood motionless, locked in the embrace and lost in each other.

When she gently eased back, rested her forehead against his shoulder, Castle took a large gulp of unsteady air, left his eyes closed. She was like kissing lightening, pure unadulterated energy. He ran his hands down her back, left them at her waist to pull her close so she could feel just what she did to him and his body. He bent his head, kissed the crook of her neck, and felt like the most powerful man alive when she shuddered.

'Kate,' he murmured, holding her close. 'I've waited for this moment since I first met you.'

'So have I, Rich,' she murmured back, no longer surprised at the emotions welling up inside her. She lifted her head, indulged herself with a long-time fantasy and planted a row of open-mouthed kisses up his neck and along his jaw; another shiver went through her as she felt him tense against her. Apparently, he wasn't the only one with the ability to surprise.

He brought her mouth back to his, this time running his hands through her thick, luscious hair. It was like threading silk around his fingers; he felt her hands, soft and purposeful, grip his wrists. When he came up for air, he rested his chin against her forehead.

'I could do this all night with you.'

'Okay.'

Castle looked down at those big green eyes, now dreamily half-closed. 'Really?'

'Really.'

Without saying a word, he took her hand, led her upstairs to his room and despite being alone in the house with her, shut and locked the door. It was habit more than anything, but a small part of him wanted this moment, these new moments with Beckett, to be private. He turned around, saw she'd taken a seat on the edge of his bed. Crossing to her, he brushed a hand over her hair, pulled her back to her feet and embraced her tightly. She had the most intoxicating aroma, light and delicate and exotic.

'What is that delicious fragrance you're wearing?'

'It's not perfume, it's soap. Japanese cherry blossom.'

'Do me a favour, don't wear it to work. It'll just drive me insane.'

'It's only for special occasions.' Beckett tilt her gaze up to his, nipped at his lower lip. God, how liberating it was to do that and know his reaction wouldn't be shocked embarrassment. 'And tonight is a definitely a special occasion.'

Sliding her fingers over the fine cotton of his shirt, she hesitated only slightly when she reached the first button, then popped it open. The second followed, then the third, all the way down until she reached the top of his belt. Her fingers untucked his shirt, ran her hands up his stomach, over his chest; he wasn't streamlined and refined but rough-hewn and solid. His shoulders were solid as granite, like the rest of him; she reveled in them as she slid his shirt off so it floated to the floor.

Castle let his head fall back, his eyes closed. He'd called her a tease once, but this wasn't teasing; this was, in its very simplest form, seduction. The exploration of the body one little bit at a time was something he hadn't experienced in so long he'd actually forgotten how pleasurable it could be to take things at such a languid pace. He forced his blood to return to his brain, made his head nod forward with open eyes. He kissed her again, sweetly this time, putting his hands on her shoulders, running them down her back. He paused a moment, confused.

'Kate?'

'Mm?'

'Where is the zipper on this thing?'

Kate chuckled, a low throaty sound that made Castle think of Cajun bordellos. 'There is no zipper.'

'Then how do you take it off?'

'Oh I'm sure you'll figure it out.'

He ran his hands up and down her back, slid lower to her ass; the move had her letting out a little gasp. Gathering the soft material in his hands, he slid it upwards, peeling the faux-silk away from her inch by glorious inch. At long last he drew it over her head, tossed it aside and was left with Beckett in very lacy lingerie that matched the colour of her dress. She was slim, long and lovely and pale as a pearl. He traced his fingers over the subtle flare of hip, around to her back, pulling her close.

'My turn,' she breathed, and with hands not quite steady, reached for his belt. The leather slid through the loops like a snake, landed somewhere near her dress; Beckett drew in a breath as she unbuttoned his pants, drew down the zipper to help him undress. She let out a little laugh when she saw the ridiculous silk boxers he wore underneath: they were NYPD blue with little gold shields and number twelves all over them.

'Quite the skivvies.'

'I thought you might like those.' Castle pulled her tight against him, brushed away a strand of hair falling across her face. 'Kate, this is a big step for us. It only goes as far as you want it to.'

'I know.' Beckett sighed, cuddled against him, then felt every last drop of brain power disappear when he whispered in her ear, 'So the question is, how far do you want to go?'

* * *

_R&R&Enjoy_.


	17. Surrender

Her only response was to kiss him, no longer sweet but deeply, erotically as those clever hands of his – why had she never noticed his hands before – roamed over her body, up her back to unsnap her bra. He traced the tip of his index finger down her spine, his blood sizzling as she went tense, then relaxed. Turning her so she spooned into his body, he planted kisses down the curve of her neck as he nudge one strap from her shoulder, then the other. Her head lolled back against his chest when the lace fell away from her body, and he ran the flat of his hand in the valley between her breasts, tested the weight of one against his palm. She was smaller there than most women he'd been with, but he loved the way she fit neatly into his large palm. A perfect fit, he thought absently, scraping his thumb over the heated point. Her hand clenched on his hip, went limp as he brought his other hand to cover her other breast.

Why had she fought this for so long? She wondered. Because, a little voice told her, dimly in the back of her brain, then it wouldn't mean as much as it does now. This was passion, certainly, but there was tenderness she didn't know he possessed, so sweet it nearly made her cry. Then, all thoughts vanished from her mind as those wickedly seeking hands moved from her breasts down her body to the edge of her panties; a small whimper escaped her lips when he did no more than run his fingertips over the sensitive skin just below the edge of the lace, making her ache for him. And he had the nerve to call her a tease?

'Rich,' she murmured, her voice thick as syrup, 'I don't think I can stand up anymore.'

Saying nothing, he turned her around so they were face to face again, kissing as he leaned towards her, effectively tumbling her to the lake-sized bed underneath him. She lay there a few seconds before felt the solid weight of him press her into the mattress, the impressive length of him and realized he'd stripped down complete naked. Her courage threatened to fade when he groaned, shifted.

'What?'

'Nothing, just...'Castle reached down by his right thigh, and came up with his cell-phone; he'd tossed it on his bed after hanging up from Paula and forgotten about it. 'It was digging into a rather sensitive area.'

A laugh bubble out of Beckett before she could stop it as he tossed the phone aside, quickly followed by her inner temptress. 'Want me to kiss it better?' she purred with a subtle flick of eyebrows.

Castle groaned again, this time in tortured delight. 'We'll get there...eventually.'

Beckett started to protest, felt it die in her throat as he shifted that clever mouth downwards to take her breast into his mouth. She arched in automatic response against him, twisting her fingers through his hair as shockwaves rocked her system. Before she could catch her breath, he turned his attention to her other breast. Instinctively, she locked her legs around his hips to pull him closer, her body feeling like it had been set on fire.

Castle fought to keep his mind somewhat clear; it was getting more and more difficult by the second to do anything beyond fighting the instinctive need to mate. But Beckett – Kate – deserved so much more from him than that. Stroking his hands up her legs, he held the back of her knee to gently ease away, saw the flash of confusion in her eyes. He stretched himself beside her, placed his palm on her stomach, just below her navel. He nipped at her earlobe, saw her eyes actually roll white as he whispered, 'Let me touch you, Kate.'

'Yes.'

It was part agreement, part plea, but it was all he needed. Tugging at the strings of her panties, he pulled them loose, tossed them over the side of the bed. He stroked his fingertips over that soft, delicate skin before finding the centre of the heat; he felt his chest tighten when he found her already damp. With deliberately slow strokes, he watched the pleasure storm across her face, until she twisted toward him, one knee drawn towards her chest to give him better access. She choked out his name – Rich – on a sob as he felt the muscles clench viciously around his fingers.

The orgasm burst through her like a supernova; for a moment, Beckett was certain she'd blacked out. Her breath came in short, rasping spurts now as she found his mouth. Greedy, drunk on the pleasure rioting through her body, she could say only one word to him.

'More.'

The time for being a gentleman was gone now, Castle knew, as he fumbled in his bedside table drawer for protection. She wanted her lover – him, he realized with no little shock – and she wanted him _now_. With careful manoeuvring, he rolled on the condom, turned back to Beckett. Knowing the element of surprise always worked with her, instead of simply lying on top of her and easing in, he took her hips in his hands, ranged himself over her and sank in.

The shock of him inside her, filling her, had Beckett's breath catching in her chest. She smiled at him, traced a finger over the scar on his eyebrow before her mouth met his and they began to move. She moaned his name in his ear, dug her short fingernails into his shoulders; she could feel his breathing began to hitch against her skin. With each possessive stroke she felt the tension build inside until, finally, finally, it exploded through every fibre of her being.

As he felt her shudder beneath him, Castle turned his face into her throat, breathing deep that tantalizing scent of her. The power of her was amazing, and the best part was she had no idea that just her presence was enough to make him want her. He drove her up a second time, relentlessly as he felt her go limp in his arms. Finally, when he could take no more, he whispered her name on a shuddering moan and let himself go.

* * *

_R&R&Enjoy_.


	18. Glow

Beckett lay beneath him, her breath coming back in heaving gulps. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to walk again, though, lying with him like that . She definitely hadn't anticipated that her night would end like that. Then again, she thought as she absently raked her fingers through his hair, she wasn't sure her night was over yet.

'Castle,' she murmured, and was greeted with an unintelligible mutter.

'Wussamah.'

'Castle, can you move?'

'I don't wanna.'

The juvenile retort had her grinning. 'I mean, can you move over a little? I can't feel my arm.'

'Oh.' With what he considered a heroic effort, Castle propped himself on his elbows, let her wriggle into a more comfortable position as he disposed of the condom discreetly. He collapsed back on top of her, making her laugh. 'Hi.'

'Hello yourself.'

'Ummm...' Beckett trailed off on a grin as those charming eyes watched her with such gooey softness in them she wondered why she'd turned him down in the first place. 'My brain seems to have gone into park.'

'How about, you're a god, you're the best I've ever had, when can we do it again.'

Beckett punched his shoulder, embarrassed to realize he spoke nothing but the plain truth. She'd considered herself healthily sexual, but there was healthy, and there was...this. Twisting she turned on her side, rested her head against her hand. 'Aren't we a little self-inflated?'

'Well, actually-'

'Oh stop.'

Castle grinned; making her laugh was almost as much fun as getting her naked. Almost. He ran a hand down her hip, back up again. 'You hungry?'

'Actually, I'm starving.'

'Excellent. Give me ten minutes.'

He levered himself out of bed, grabbed his robe from off the door - though unlikely, Alexis and his mother both had keys and he doubted either of them wanted to see him wandering around the apartment in his skin, clearly in the post-sex high phase of the night. He padded downstairs to the house phone to call in a take-out order he knew would have Beckett grinning and probably jumping his bones again. Once the order had been placed, he went to the still-standing bar from the reception, grabbed a bottle of champagne and two glasses. On his way back to the room, he grinned like a fool the entire time.

Holy mother of...He'd known she would be passionate, and yet it felt like the first time he could say he'd actually made love with someone. He'd had sex certainly - he had two failed marriages and a daughter to prove it - and considered the line that so many writers used on the difference between making love and having sex complete tripe. Now, it seemed, he'd have to find another cliche to bash, not just because of the act itself, but because of something she'd said.

She'd called him 'Rich'. No woman he'd ever been with had ever called him that in bed before. Meredith had been fond of 'Ricky' or when she was feeling particular in the mood, 'Richard'. Gina had always, always called him Castle, which made him wonder in the light of day if she only ever though of his the name and not him. His lovely detective had given him that first, and he knew she would probably fall out of bed if she knew she'd given him a first anything.

When he reached the door, he saw one of the most heart-stopping sights he'd seen in his life: Beckett, sprawled buck-ass naked on her stomach on his bed as she played with her phone - where she'd gotten it from he hadn't a clue, nor did he even want to think of it, an amused light in her eyes as she tried to hide a foolish grin by biting her lip. When she looked up, saw him, she pushed a few buttons, tossed it onto the beside table beside her corsage - again, how the hell did that get there?

'It appears Lanie owes your mother fifty big ones.'

'Really?' Intrigued, Castle poured her a glass of bubbly, passed it to her. 'Why might that be?'

'Just a...friendly wager,' Beckett finished on a slight blush. 'Lanie texted me, asked if I made it home safely.'

'And you just couldn't wait to brag?' Castle grinned as he poured wine for himself, sat down on the bed beside her.

'She's my best friend, Rich, I couldn't lie to her. I only told her I was still here.'

Castle felt the punch in his gut again when she used that name on him. He also knew the ME well enough now to know she'd know they weren't having a post-party game of Scrabble, either, which had him unexpectedly uneasy. He'd hoped they'd be able to keep it private for a little longer. Then again, just about everyone in the whole damn precinct thought they'd already done the deed during the Nikki Heat inspired murders and were just being selfish non-sharers of details. He drank more wine, let the thought wash away with the fizz. Nothing like that was going to crawl into his mind now, not when he was sharing post-loving champagne with the most beautiful woman in New York City, possibly the world. Talk about dreams coming true.

Beckett watched him with pursed lips and a twinkle in her eye as he swallowed his drink. There was something fascinating about his neck, she thought; she couldn't explain why she wanted to nibble that soft little spot right where it met his jaw. When she saw he'd finished his wine off, she asked softly, 'You done with that?'

'Um, yeah, why?'

'Good.' So saying, she neatly nipped the glass from his hand, set both their glasses on the bedside table and straddle him. She crushed her mouth to his, knowing now it was her turn to surprise him. 'We still have time before the food gets here, right?'

* * *

_R&R&Enjoy_.


	19. Good Morning Indeed

_Hello faithful readers, one and all! Sadly, this is the last chapter of 'Cake Crumbs' but not to fret, there will be another one coming up later, that has Esposito meeting a girl. And yes, it will be continued in the Ryan&Honey-Milk-are-married universe. And there's also the possibility of a 'deleted scene' from this story too! So one more time, here we go!_

* * *

The first thought that went through Beckett's head when she awoke on Sunday morning was _coffee_. She lifted her head from the fluffy down pillow, realized it wasn't coming from downstairs but from her beside table in the form of a steaming blue mug of sweet, sweet wake-up juice. Grabbing the mug, she tugged the sheets up around her body and sipped; it didn't register that he'd fixed it just how she liked it - heavy on the milk, easy on the sugar - only that he'd made her coffee. Beckett sipped again, looked around the room. So this was the bachelor's playground, she mused. It wasn't at all liked she'd pictured it; she'd anticipated more stereotypical black leather and silk sheets. Then again, there was more to Richard Castle than met the eye, and boy she learned that one in spades the night before. He'd taken his time with her that first time, so slow and sweet it had practically been torturous. Then he'd turned right around and acted like that impish little boy she'd come to like when his late night, post-sex take out hadn't been sushi or Chinese, but cheeseburgers, sweet potato fries, and strawberry banana shakes from Remy's - the same meal they'd had after closing the diamond-smuggling snakes case. He was so full of contradictions, it made her wonder what would come next.

A quick glance at the clock told her it was nearly ten in the morning, which had Beckett thinking it was probably time to gather up her party-panties and do the time-honoured Sunday morning walk home. Looking around, she saw he'd draped a purple cashmere bathrobe on the end of the bed; without thinking it had been from some previous conquest, she went across the hall into the bathroom and felt her heart stumble a little when she saw the little pink make-up bag with a little note attached. She flipped it open, felt her heart do a second stumble in her chest.

_Thought you might want to keep a bag here. Rich_

She slid the zipper open, and chuckled to herself: he'd put together a toiletries kit for her. Inside was a toothbrush, mini-toothpaste, mouth-wash, lotion, soap - both face and hair, deodorant, razor, hairbrush, and a mini-makeup kit. It was all brand-new, still in its safety-seals; it made her smile broadly. The usual kind of girls he went out with were the kind who'd gladly used his things the morning after. She was special to him, it seemed.

Fifteen minutes later, wrapped up again in the robe and freshly showered, Beckett went back to his room and stuffed her hands in her pockets. Her bliss at seeing the rumpled sheets - her evidence of a good-time on Saturday night - turned to confusion when she felt a little piece of paper in the right pocket. Pulling it out, she laughed out loud when she came across another note.

_Top shelf of the closet, box marked 'Playboy Back Issues'_.

Deciding it couldn't hurt to have a look she went to his closet - his very large walk-in, she noted; who knew the man was such a fashionista clothes-horse - found the box. Like a child with a present, she sat on the floor of the closet, lifted the lid of the box and felt her heart turn into a gooey puddle.

Inside were boxes from various online stores - H&M, Marquita, LuLuLemon, even Victoria's Secret. And of course, another note. Well the man was a writer, after all.

_Thought these might come in handy if you ever stayed over. The bottom right drawer of the bureau is yours too; you can keep your pretty purple bathrobe in there. Yeah, I bought that for you too. Breakfast is ready downstairs._

Beckett bit her lip, genuinely touched. He'd bought her morning-after clothes; 'when' or 'how he knew her clothing size' was irrelevant, the fact that he'd been that thoughtful at all was enough to touch the romantic core so few knew she had. She opened the packages, found a couple of silk-soft cotton shirts, a pair of jeans, yoga pants and necessary underthings. They favoured blues and greens in colour scheme, but the underwear was pure silliness - it was navy blue with gold number twelves on the panties, and she noted, a replica of her shield over her heart on the bra, complete with her badge number. All she could do was shake her head - only Castle would get her NYPD underwear custom-made. _  
_

She dressed quickly, went downstairs to find there was not only the smell of coffee but glorious crispy bacon, eggs and fresh toast and fruit. In the kitchen, at the centre of it, always at the center, was Castle. He was in his Sunday casual - a faded grey t-shirt and loose black pants - as he read the paper, his back to her. His hair was brushed but unstyled and he was in his bare feet. She didn't know why, but the fact he was charmed her inexplicably.

Going on instinct, she walked up behind him, put her hands on his shoulders and pressed her lips to the back of his neck. She felt a sly feminine thrill when he went stiffened, then relaxed as he used that sexy-time voice on her again.

'Good morning, Detective.'

'Good morning, Novelist.'

'Did you find everything you needed this morning?'

Beckett grinned, gave him a little punch in the shoulder as she began to fix herself a plate. 'As a matter of fact, I did.'

Castle flashed her that grin that was partly cocky, partly amused as he watched her putter around his kitchen. 'So...do we need to like, have the 'talk' or do we just take last night as a tacit understanding that we see where it goes while torturing our friends-slash-colleagues with did-they-or-didn't-they mind-games.'

'Well...' Beckett paused, chose a blackberry and chewed contemplatively. Usually with her sexual partners, she tried to have the discussion about how she wouldn't be a 'normal' girlfriend because of her job and it ended with them saying 'thanks a bunch, see ya never'. But Castle was her shadow; he knew the ins and outs of her job, and his time was relatively flexible. He was cute, intelligent, he was an excellent father but more than anything he was understanding and he made her laugh, whether she admitted it or not. 'I do have one condition.'

'What's that?'

When he smiled at her, Beckett knew she was a goner. But then, she'd been a goner from the first case they'd closed together. It had only been a matter of time...and cake crumbs, she thought, mentally tracing the evolution of the catalyst for the previous night's events.

'I still get to drive when we're at work.'

_**FIN**_

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_R&R&Enjoy_.


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